harder
by backseat compromises
Summary: He feels as if his heart has been torn from him - each time he hurts Austria, a part of him dies inside - but there is no way he can deny the man he loves of anything. Sequel to So Close.


Germany frowns as he massages his temples, deep in thought. The afternoon is almost over and evening approaches, so maybe, just maybe, his only visitor changed his mind and decided not to visit today. Or maybe... He stops himself before he can think of any other scenario.

It does not really matter. Each visit leaves him more tired than before, and it isn't as if dealing with the aftermath of the Second World War is an easy task. He tries to convince himself that it's fine if he's alone for the night, at least, he doesn't have to hurt himself, he doesn't have to hurt-

The doorbell rings and Germany looks up.

_So much for thinking that he wouldn't visit_, he sighs as he gets up from his seat at the dining table, walking across the living room. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to put on his mask of apathy before opening the door and there _he_ is, standing in the doorway, chocolate brown hair slightly dishevelled, pale cheeks flushed, panting slightly.

"Germany," Austria begins as the blonde's eyes narrow slightly.

Germany pulls the Austrian in without returning the greeting, grabbing him by his wrist. "How ironic," he mutters underneath his breath as he thought of how not too long ago, during the Second World War, _he_ was the one who visited Austria, _he_ was the one who spent evenings with him and wasn't _he_ the one made Austria so desperate and needy for _pain_?

"Germany?" Austria looks up at the blonde, frowning. "Did you say something?"

"No," Germany's expression hardens as he turns to face the brunette. "Did I give you permission to speak?"

Austria's violet eyes widen immediately. He opens his mouth but closes it again, deciding against it as he shakes his head.

Germany bites back a sardonic laugh. And _he_ was the one feeling disgusted by the way Austria kept coming back to him, begging to be hurt. The irony stung and left an open wound which had no intention of healing. He flings the door to the guest bedroom open and wordlessly, he tightens his grip on the brunette's wrist and pulls him close.

"Let me see the scars," he whispers, breath hot on the Austrian's ear.

"Germany," the other nation begins, uncertainty clouding his violet eyes.

"You're still pretending to be embarrassed by this at this stage?" Germany laughs mirthlessly, fingernails tearing the other nation's sensitive skin as they sank deeper. "You are, indeed, ever the pathetic fool, Austria."

The brunette shivers as he bites his lip, undoing his cravat with one hand, throwing it aside as he reaches for the buttons of his shirt. "Germany-"

The blonde reaches for the brunette's shirt and tears it apart, revealing a silvery scar near his collarbone. "Very good," he presses his tongue to it and licks at it, slowly, tracing it while the other nation trembles beneath him. "It will fade soon enough, and I will have to give you another one to remember me by, won't I?" he asks.

Austria nods silently as Germany draws away. His wrist hurts, the little red crescents from the German's fingernails sting but it doesn't really matter, as long as, as long as... He finds himself holding his breath as the blonde unbuckles his belt, then removes it.

"Kneel," he commands and Austria scrambles to obey as Germany loops the belt around his neck, tying it in place so that both the leather and the buckle bit into the brunette's skin.

"It looks like a collar, doesn't it?" he asks, admiring his handiwork with a mocking look in his cold blue eyes. Austria does not answer, flinching underneath his scrutiny when Germany presses his foot to his crotch. The brunette whimpers as the blonde nudges at his erection, body betraying his emotions. He tries, oh, he tries so very hard to hide how he enjoys it under a mask because it _hurts so good_ but with Germany, as always, it is impossible. "Answer me," his voice is devoid of any emotion as he pulls the belt just a little tighter.

"Y-yes," Austria chokes out and Germany smirks.

"Such a little whore," he undoes his trousers, looking down at Austria, eyes narrowing condescendingly. A flush graces the brunette's cheeks as he struggles to bite back a moan. Much as Germany hates doing this, the look on Austria's face, of lust, of sheer need for pain and cruelty turns him on and by the time he is finished with his trousers, he finds that yes, he _needs_ what he is about to do. Perhaps, he craves hurting Austria as much as Austria craves being hurt, because pain is now roughly equivalent to pleasure, or is it the other way round? He doesn't have the answer and he figures that maybe, he doesn't want the answer as he pulls the other nation by his hair, pressing his head to his crotch.

"Put your hands behind your back and suck me," he orders, forcing the brunette's mouth open. Austria gasps as the blonde presses his arousal to his lips, then thrusts in ruthlessly. His first instinct is to gag, but the German holds his jaw in place as he goes deeper, causing tears to form in the brunette's eyes.

Austria remembers how it felt, so long ago, when Germany declared Anschluss. How he thrust brutally into his mouth, how he had commanded him to lick, to touch him in ways that only he knew, but even then, as he laid claim to him, somehow, the hurt back then paled in comparison to whatever he is feeling now.

But there _is_ a difference, isn't there? Right now, he wants it because he is so numb to everything, that emotional pain is just a dull throb in his heart. Words mean nothing now, because they are flimsy and hold no weight; feelings are inexistent and physical pain becomes the only way to feel. Does it matter if the German cared for him any more? He wanders in the repetition, trying to find the difference between pain and pleasure to no avail, because the both of them have blurred the lines so long ago that there is no longer any way to distinguish between the two.

A sharp tug on the belt awakens Austria from his reverie, reminding him of the task at hand. His lips leave the base of Germany's length as he does his best to please the blonde, licking at his tip, sucking, then taking him back into his mouth again. When the German pulls the belt tighter, Austria nearly chokes. His skin burns, he's almost gasping for air as Germany continues thrusting. Within seconds, the friction between his tongue and the underside of his length brings the blonde over the edge and with a jerk, he pulls out, spilling white all over Austria's face and spectacles.

Germany groans, staggering backwards until he reaches the bed. Austria watches him through half lidded eyes as the other nation catches his breath.

"Come over," the blonde's voice is lower than before and Austria obeys immediately, climbing on to the bed. He removes the belt from his neck and the brunette gasps, breathing in heavily.

Austria's mind is filled with nothing but _air, sweet air_, when Germany pushes him down on to the bed. He undoes the fastenings on Austria's trousers quickly, removing all his clothing so he lay naked on the bed beside him, trembling. The blonde gingerly pressed a finger to the lines of crimson all over the brunette's back, thinking of the whip he had used as the other nation stiffens beneath him.

"Stick your ass up," Germany orders. Austria does so and secretly, some part of him is glad that the other nation did not notice that in spite of everything, he still had his spectacles on. But honestly, what good did having his spectacles on do? What exactly was there left to hide from him, the look of utter humiliation in his eyes when he begged for more pain? How many times had Germany seen that?

"Hold still," Germany murmurs as he slides a finger into the Austrian's entrance. "Fuck, you're still so tight," he grits his teeth as he works the second finger in.

It _burns_. The pain threatens to swallow Austria whole, but there's the pleasure he derives from it, where his erection is throbbing between his legs. _I need this_, Austria reminds himself as a third finger is added and Germany curls them upwards to hit that sweet spot, making him cry out in pleasure. _No, I want this_, he thinks, biting his lip as the pain starts to override the pleasure when a fourth finger eases into him, stretching, moving forward.

But the thought isn't quite enough. _No_, Austria gropes wildly in the recesses of his mind for the right word as Germany wets his thumb with more saliva, slicking it up, forcing it in slowly as the brunette screams. _Yes, yes, I_ deserve _it_, his lips twitch in a semblance of a satisfied smile as Germany shoves the rest of his thumb in.

Germany wonders if this is what he really wants. Yes, he wanted the brunette so badly, to bend him to his will, to possess him fully but at the same time, he wanted to treat him with care, to be gentle with him because of the ethereal sort of fragility he seemed to possess. He hates himself for turning Austria into what he is now - the writhing, wanton mess below him - but at the same time, he supposes, isn't this exactly what he wanted back then?

Austria's length is hard, straining forward, he wants to touch it, he wants friction, any form of friction so badly and he wants to bring himself over the edge. His slit is leaking, pearly white droplets are dripping from it. He bites his lip as Germany shifts his hand a little and soon, his hand is in, thrust to the wrist.

"Germany," the brunette's voice is shaky as a moan escapes his lips, unbidden.

The blonde's fingers swirl inside him, stretching again, pressing upwards against the sweet spot and he's so full, he's so damn full and fuck, the sight of Austria bent over on the bed, impaling himself on his wrist, clenching around him is so damned hot that it takes almost all of his self control not to pull his hand out and fuck him with his cock instead.

"Beg, Austria," Germany intones, remembering Anschluss. The pain, the guilt, _everything_ gnaws at him inside but he presses on nonetheless.

"Please," the word leaves the brunette's lips in an almost whisper. He's so close, so goddamned close already...

"Louder," Germany's voice is strained as he nudges against the sweet spot once more.

"Please!" Austria all but screams and Germany applies more pressure. The brunette climaxes soon enough, falling forward against the bed, lying languid, breathing harsh. The German slips his hand out slowly as Austria whimpers, shuddering. There's an unbearable sensation between his legs because watching Austria come from _fucking his hand alone_ was so terribly arousing. He wants to bury himself to the hilt within him, but first...

The blonde slips his hands below the Austrian, fingers caressing his flaccid length idly. The brunette looks up at him, confused as he turns over to lie on his back.

There are cigarette burns all over his milky white thighs from the previous night. Germany looks at them and some part of him stings, hating himself for being the one who caused Austria pain, hating Austria for wanting him to hurt him. He rubs his thumb over the tip and the brunette's eyes widen in alarm.

"No wait, no, not yet-" he starts to get up but Germany ignores him, pushing him down to his hands and knees. He licks his fingers, flicking them across the brunette's abused entrance before reaching to stroke his length again, satisfied that it was rapidly hardening as a result of his ministrations.

"No, please, no," the tears trickle down Austria's cheeks but the blonde pays no attention to them as he thrusts into him, filling him completely. Despite his protests, Austria moans, hips bucking forward, welcoming the intrusion.

"You behave just like a bitch in heat, Austria," Germany's voice is harsh and cold as his palm meets the smooth skin of the brunette's buttocks.

Austria's reply comes only in a series of incoherent moans as Germany does it again, this time, with more force as he continues thrusting.

"Whore," the German mutters under his breath. His hand travels lower to brush against Austria's length, stroking the underside briefly.

"Yes, ah, yes," Austria nods numbly as his hips jerk forward involuntarily, seeking more friction from the German's palm. The blonde is gripping his erection tightly, roughly jerking him off, teasing his slit with the rough pads of his fingertips while he writhes under him, wanting, no, _needing_ more. He clutches at the bedsheets, fingers curling as he grinds into the blonde's hand, desperate for release. When the blonde's thumb grazes his sensitive tip again, his climax slams into him and he collapses against the bed, shuddering violently.

Germany pushes his length into Austria mercilessly, breathing uneven, withdrawing completely as he goes over the edge, leaving thick ropes of white all over Austria's back.

He lies bonelessly against the mattress, panting hard, while the German props himself up on his side, admiring the stark contrast between the white and the red welts all over the Austrian's skin.

"We'll do this again tomorrow, right?" Austria asks after a while, turning to Germany, violet eyes pleading. There is something hidden in those depths; although he doesn't know where it is, he knows it's still there, buried deep within but there is no way for him to recover it again... Or is there? He is desperately seeking the flame that once burned within, but now, but _now_...

"Yes," Germany averts his gaze and nods. He feels as if his heart has been torn from him - each time he hurts Austria, a part of him dies inside - but there is no way he can deny the man he loves of anything. "Yes, we will."

* * *

**a/n: **for the kink meme. **reviews will be greatly appreciated.**


End file.
